


red rose for the blue man

by shepherd



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fill, nothing i can really say to be honest, the prompt was 'presents'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 17:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1786510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepherd/pseuds/shepherd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is given an unexpected gift in the wreckage of a battle, and the nature of a relationship changes. Written as a prompt fill on tumblr. Unbeta'd.</p>
            </blockquote>





	red rose for the blue man

**Author's Note:**

> Bless you. Forgive me.
> 
> my tumblr is thewinterrqueer if you can stand me after this

New York had seen better days.

A fraction still out of breath with his chest heaving and leaning against a wrecked, overturned car, Steve surveyed his surroundings in silence. He had ripped off his cowl, and the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead was cooling uncomfortably in the still air of the late evening. The streets, once full of panicked fleeing civilians and frankly useless staring police officers were now mostly empty. They had all fled from this evening’s foes, a dozen separate units of robotic creatures that as of yet still had no source and no clear reason for striking. The Avengers had assembled immediately, sans Thor, and took them out. There were so many of them it was a little hard to control, but they had little to no uniformity, and they were much easier to dispatch when they were scurrying all over the place, blind to everything but the addicting flurry of battle. With a few tactics in place they were gone in no time at all, and Steve was satisfied. There were no casualties and even Stark had behaved himself, causing no extra needless damage or making any reckless decisions.

The city was a mess, though, and his heart hurt a little in sympathy for whoever had to clean the devastation they had helped create up- who had to sweep up the glass from the shattered windows, replace crumbled walls, repave the roads. He wished they had been a little more careful, but when his team consisted of a huge, angry green monster and a man who owned a robot suit with a trigger finger, more money than sense and a flair for the dramatic, he supposed it couldn’t be helped.

He sighed to himself, hanging his head and gazing at the floor. He sat in blissful, uninterrupted silence still as people trickled back onto the streets, uncertain and nervous, tiptoeing amongst the broken bodies of the robotic attackers as if fearful they might spring back up. Police officers muttered around him, and he could feel their burning stares, but they went ignored. He enjoyed the quiet for a little longer, as his heartbeat calmed.

“Hey, Cap!”

And there it was. Steve was surprised the peace lasted so long.

The murmurs increased tenfold at the sound of the shout and familiar heavy footfalls on the ruined ground. Steve gave himself a moment, counting carefully to ten before finally looking up, hoping he didn’t look half as mentally exhausted as he felt.

“Yes, Tony?” He asked, long suffering, and then blinked and recoiled as something was shoved directly into his face.

It was a vibrant something, a shocking fire red, dotted with splashes of lighter colours- anything from canary yellow to orange the colour of burning coals. Flowers, Steve recognised after a moment of bewilderment, rather gorgeous ones at that despite how crushed most of them were. They looked like they had been picked up from the ruined street, and the man had made a valiant and somewhat successful attempt to salvage them. They had been gathered up and distributed fairly evenly, and they were clutched firmly in Tony’s armoured hand. Steve stared at them blankly before glancing up at him.

Tony had removed his faceplate, and his grin was devilish. “Got ya something.” He said, matter of factly, his voice unfairly chipper. “My colours, of course.”

The man hesitated a moment longer, his brows furrowed in confusion. He almost moved to accept them, to brush his fingers gently along the soft petals, but he refrained from the moment of weakness. “You took these?”

“I’ll pay for them.” Tony waved his words away as if they were persistent flies buzzing around his ears. “There was a cart I saw a few blocks over, I’ll find them again later. Just saw them and thought of our brave leader.” He had the audacity to wink, to wink at him, as if they were much more than the vague acquaintances that they actually were. Steve almost openly gaped.

Tony Stark was giving him, Steve Rogers, Captain America, flowers. Tony Stark had seen them, and thought of him. And in public, in the ruined portion of their city, directly after a fight for their lives. In public.

It was likely some kind of ridiculous joke, some kind of childish display of dominance considering the Iron Man colours and it was hardly some grand romantic gesture, but it still made something that had felt long dead stir and awaken in his belly. He thought it was long gone, that he bludgeoned it to death himself, but he felt a little weak at the knees, and was forever glad he had been sitting down.

He felt foolish, so desperate for a little affection that he’d actually consider the thought of a notorious womanizer flirting with him, treating him like something special, but the feeling was impossible to suppress.

He turned his head, to find several of the officers staring. Some of them guiltily looked away, but bolder ones continued to openly watch. Steve hoped he didn’t flush, as he damn well knew he had the habit to do. Once upon a time, Bucky had teased him mercilessly for it. He lingered for a moment longer, fumbling somewhat with his cowl in uneasy fingers.  
In that time, Tony had faltered.

His hand dropped, the flowers no longer thrust in his face, and the man took a swift step back, almost out of Steve’s reach. “I know, I know, they’re ruined, crushed to hell.” He attempted a laugh, and Steve only just caught its sharp edge and the way it seemed so hollow. He had finely tuned sense for lies, for fakery. He always had. “Worse than the shit I used to give Pepper, and man, let me tell you, there’s a reason she got the hell out.” His grip on the delicate stems was suddenly tighter, Steve noted, worrying them with no mercy. He was floundering too, he saw, too many words, too many excuses and self deprecating jokes trying to break free at one time. The man was lost at sea.

Steve wasn’t having that.

“You’re crushing the poor things even more,” He informed him briskly, reaching out and tugging at Tony’s wrist, pulling him forward. “Give them a break. Probably been through hell.” He smiled, as stable as he could. “Give them here.”

Tony let himself be manhandled and moulded for a moment, his grip slowly loosening. His bitter smile melted away to be replaced with a blank slate, mechanical nothingness, before he realised what was happening.

“No.” He pulled his arm away but didn’t step back again, holding the flowers far out of his reach. “No, it was stupid, just me being an ass, as always-”

“Give them to me.” Steve interjected firmly, and no one could resist his commanding tone- with only a split second of hesitation, Tony shoved them at him again, not making eye contact. He stared determinedly at one point somewhere around Steve’s collarbones. He didn’t see Steve’s pleased smile.

“It was a joke.” He murmured, practically sulkily, like a child who had been caught in the middle of mischief and scolded by a parent. “A shitty one.”

It may have been done partly in jest, but one look in Tony’s downcast eyes told him as clear as day that there was something else, something deeper, something that he didn’t necessarily want to admit. Maybe something still in it’s early stages, developing and changing slowly. Steve hummed to himself, and held the gift carefully, turning it and gazing at the petals. They were even more beautiful close up, despite the damage. He drifted a hand against the furious red, his smile only widening.

He wondered if the officers were still gawking and what they were thinking, but he couldn’t really find it in himself to care too much.

Tony was shifting uncomfortably, still refusing to look at him properly, so Steve put him out of his misery. “Sit down with me,” He said, shuffling to one side as if there wasn’t already enough space. “You must be tired. That was a pretty long fight.”

The man visibly deflated with a low and barely audible sigh, and didn’t even try to argue. He sat himself down carefully, at a safe distance from his teammate, and didn’t say a word. Steve wanted to draw closer, but in the same vein didn’t want to unsettle him any further. He kept brushing his thumb over one flower in particular, this time a soft gold, and his smile never slipped. “Thank you for these.”

“It was a joke, damn it-”

“No, I don’t think it was.”

“Captain-”

“Tony,” He interrupted, his voice low, soft, soothing. “Tony, it’s fine.” He used the same voice he would have used to calm a spooked animal, a stallion ready to flee. The petal was like silk against the rough, calloused edge of his thumb. His heart was heavy, perched in his throat. “I love them. Thank you.”

Tony finally looked up, and gazed at him for a long moment. His eyes were hard, two dark stones that glittered with something unfamiliar, and the press of his lips and line of his jaw was firm. Steve matched the stare, but he made his expression free and easy, uncaring that the man opposite was tense and ready to bolt at a moments notice. The silence stretched on for minutes, and neither man dared to look away. It wasn’t a fierce battle of wills like it always was between them, two dominant men demanding submission from the other- it was a search for understanding, for common ground. Steve was exhilarated that he was given this chance, that for once neither stood on their exalted ground.

Eventually, something seemed to give way, to shift and decay between them.

“Thanks.” Tony eventually managed, and Steve counted it a victory that the words were not ground out, and ignored the fact that the man had nothing to apologise for. His only response was to grin, to shuffle closer to the man, and to smile wider when he made no move to edge away- instead turning towards him, and offering a wry smile of his own.

Steve and Tony sat together in a comfortable silence, unmoving, until Hill came along and ordered them to debrief. He felt her gaze linger on the flowers, saw her brows knit together and her lips purse, but he made no attempt to hide them. Tony rebuilt his shields, becoming his witty, sharp self again, but none of his playful barbs wounded too badly, none cutting too deep. Steve held his flowers close, gave Tony a warm and encouraging smile, and he knew something was going to change.


End file.
